Fallen Stars (Stone Bay Series Book 3)

Chapter 28

The past weekhas been nothing short of chaos. From the moment Tymber uncovered the lead on Levi’s computer, everything switched gears. Moved faster. Became more urgent.

Because time is not on our side.

At least one of us, if not more, is working to discover the location of where Levi had been taken at all hours.

A day and a half ago, the Coast Guard surveyed an unusually high level of activity on a supposedly uninhabited island four to five miles off the coast of central Washington. Several docked boats and yachts, with many others coming and going.

The night of the discovery, law enforcement loitered in a boat far enough from the island to not be seen as they watched the activity level go from high to extreme. Releasing a drone with a night vision camera, they were able to get a better view of what we were up against. They watched as unconscious people of all ages were carried off boats, thrown in a pile on a trailer, and carted off to what appeared to be a door.

With the naked eye, the door was connected to a space barely large enough for three people. After taking the fifth person through the door, law enforcement surmised there was a level beneath the surface. A building beneath the earth and trees. To what extent, no one had a clue.

Yesterday, law enforcement and Tymber made a plan.

Ambush the island, imprison who we can, but take out uncontainable threats, and get inside the door.

Tymber and Travis argued with me when I informed them I was coming along. For hours, we went back and forth. They wanted to keep me safe. They didn’t want to worry about me while entering the unknown.

But I didn’t back down. I didn’t give them a choice.

Like it or not, I would be in the room when we found Levi. Period.

This is why I am now suited up in way too much tactical gear, without a weapon, and following behind Tymber as we wander long, clinical hallways with numerous doors on stealthy feet.

“Levi!” I holler, no longer concerned about being quiet.

We stormed the island fifteen minutes ago. Officers from various law enforcement agencies have taken out or detained no less than thirty individuals—and we’ve just grazed the surface.

They know we are here, so now it’s about finding Levi and freeing the people within these walls.

Pop, pop, pop.

Bullets fly through the air. Bodies fall to the ground—thankfully, none on our side. Alarms wail through the halls at deafening levels. Masked people appear out of thin air with weapons created for war and death.

With hands shaking and anxiety twisting my insides, I push forward.

“Levi!”

The team veers to the side, avoiding a body on the ground. As we reach the masked man, I pause when silver glints from the waist of his pants. I squat and reach for the clip hooked to his belt loop.

Keys. Three brass and three silver. And a key card.

Disobeying orders, I shuffle out of line and move to one of the doors. I flip through the keys on the ring and try to unlock the door.

“Oliver, no.” Tymber rests a hand on my shoulder. “We don’t know what’s behind these doors.”

I peer over my shoulder with narrow eyes. “If it’s the people who took Levi, don’t you think they’d be out here trying to kill us?” I purse my lips. “I’m opening the door.”

His fingers curl around my shoulder in either frustration or acquiescence. I don’t stop to ask which.

The second brass key slides into the lock and I twist it. A loud click sounds as the key stops. With a twist of the handle, I ease the door open.

Huddled in the corner of a walk-in closet-sized room is a girl in a white sundress too big for her body. Practically a skeleton, she visibly trembles as she tries to blend into the wall.

“You’re okay, miss,” Tymber says in a voice so soft I’d never guess it was his. “We’re here to take you home.” He holds his hands up and keeps his distance. “We just need to take care of the bad guys first.” Inching back, he grabs a bucket on the floor and props the door open. “Stay here while we do that. Okay?”

She doesn’t speak or nod. She doesn’t give any indication she heard or understands what’s been said.

Tymber backs out of the room and tells someone that there may be victims behind the doors.

I stare at the scared girl for one, two, three ragged breaths. Then I stumble back into the hallway, turn my head, and look at the countless doors.

He’s here. Behind one of these doors, I will find him.

The backs of my eyes sting and my vision blurs. I blink the imminent tears away.

“Later,” I mumble. “Focus on finding him.”

Key firmly in my grip, I move to the next door and unlock it. A woman old enough to be my mother jumps back and starts crying. I grab the bucket in her room and prop the door open. Rather than soothe her with hopeful words, I shuffle to the next door.

One door after another, I unlock the doors and search for Levi. When I reach the last door in this hallway and still don’t find him, my heart clenches beneath my sternum.

Then I remind myself that this place is immense.

If I have to open hundreds of doors before I find him, so be it. I refuse to give up. Until Levi is in my arms again, I refuse to let a single part of myself rest.

Rounding the end of the hall and moving to the next, I unlock more doors.

My rib cage strangles my lungs tighter and tighter as I open one door after another and don’t find Levi on the other side.

Silence echoes in the air for a split second as the alarm shuts off. Then, all I hear is my jagged breaths and footsteps on the tile.

“I’m here, moje srce,” I say, the words garbled and thick with emotion. “And I won’t leave without you.”

Stepping around a man in a puddle of blood on the floor, I go to the next room. The key slips into the lock and I twist it as I have more than a hundred times already. I open the door and glance into the room, mentally ready to grab the bucket, prop the door, and move to the next.

But as I reach for the bucket, I freeze.

On the floor, legs bent and crushed to his chest, cheek pressed to his knees, Levi rocks back and forth.

“Levi?” His name is a tender question on my tongue as I narrow my eyes and take him in.

The man on the floor doesn’t look like Levi. Not my Levi. But deep in my bones, I know it’s him.

In this life and every other possible existence, my soul unequivocally recognizes his.

Every cell in my body screams with joy in finding him. But the delight fades fast. A shiver rolls up my spine and goose bumps erupt on my skin as my eyes roam over him. As I listen to his muted voice as it says something indiscernible.

Uncertain what to say or do, I move the bucket to prop open the door with unhurried movements. As I straighten my spine, I take a tentative step into the room. On the next step, I stand within a foot of him.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t look up, doesn’t pay me a single ounce of attention.

I shove the keys in my pocket, take a slow, deep breath, and bend my knees to squat in front of him.

Levi jerks back and shuffles across the room until his back slams against the wall.

My heart wrenches in my chest as the air evaporates in my lungs.

Every instinct in me says to close the distance between us and comfort him, to wrap him in my arms and tell him he is safe. Every fiber in my makeup says to inch closer and soothe his concerns with calm reassurances and tender touches.

But I can’t.

Levi isn’t scared. He is downright petrified of me.

The last thing I want to do is retreat. But it’s not about what I want right now.

Levi needs to not feel threatened, endangered or powerless—three things he has inevitably experienced during his captivity. He needs a sense of safety and strength. He needs the opportunity to dig deep and unearth his fortitude.

Dropping to my hands and knees on the floor, I reluctantly push myself away from him. Less than a foot—I’m unwilling to add any more distance.

“Levi,” I whisper as I dip my chin in an attempt to meet his gaze. “It’s Ollie.”

Eyes on my hands, his cracked lips move over and over, but I still can’t hear what he says.

Before we left for the island, law enforcement prepped us for possible scenarios we’d encounter. The biggest situation being how the victims may behave as we happen upon them. Some have been missing more than six months. Others, a few weeks. Unaware of their living conditions or treatment since their disappearance, we had no clue what version of hell we were walking into.

Levi is one of the most courageous and headstrong people I know. But after weeks or months in hell, even the most unyielding of minds can be broken and trampled.

I test the boundary between us and scoot forward an inch or two.

He doesn’t flinch and shrink away.

Progress.

“Levi,” I murmur, keeping my tone passive and low. With immeasurable restraint, I lift my hand, flip it palm-side up, and extend it toward him. “It’s Ollie,” I repeat. “I’m here to take you home.”

“In the shadows, we hide,” he mutters on a loop as he studies my hand.

My heart soars at his words. My words. My lyrics.

Thrilled as I am, I school my features and do my damnedest to remain impassive. The last thing I want to do is spook him.

Wanting to connect with him and earn his dismantled trust, I take a deep breath and whisper a different line from the song.

“Forever mine… until every star falls from the sky.”

Lifeless blue eyes flit to mine and narrow. Incredulous, he studies my face for any sign of familiarity. Slowly, he relaxes his limbs and tilts his head. Inching closer but maintaining some distance.

I don’t move, don’t speak, don’t offer anything further. I resist every urge to lunge forward, wrap him in my arms, and press my lips to his.

Levi needs to make the next move. He needs the control that was stolen from him.

“Ollie?”

The backs of my eyes burn and my nose stings as my name leaves his lips. Saliva pools in my mouth as emotion clogs my throat.

Rolling my lips between my teeth, I slowly nod. “Yeah.” I blink a few times. “It’s me.”

His brows and lips twitch as his chin wobbles. “Ollie?” he repeats as though he’s unconvinced. “You’re really here?”

My vision blurs as a slow, gentle smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. The first tear rolls down my cheek as my hand extended between us trembles. “I’m really here, Levi.”

I fight the inclination to call him by the term of endearment I gifted him months ago. Damn, do I fight it.

Not knowing what state any of the victims would be in, we were coached to only speak with them simplistically. We were told to use their name repeatedly—if we knew it—so they would feel a sense of identity. Though it sounded off-putting, we were told to speak with them in a calm, even, plain voice with basic words.

It guts me to talk to him like a frightened child. It shreds my soul to not touch him.

But this isn’t about what I want; it’s about Levi and what he needs right now.

Control. Security. Familiarity.

Love.

He scoots closer and lifts his hand. My heart rattles my rib cage as his fingers extend toward mine.

Boots pound the floor behind us and Levi thrusts back. He folds himself in half and wraps his arms around his bent legs. His entire frame shakes as his eyes pinch closed.

“Ollie?” Tymber’s voice echoes through the hallway as his shadow casts over me on the floor. “Shit,” he mutters.

I hold up my other hand and signal him to stop.

“Levi?” I hate that I have to start again, but I’ll do it every minute of every damn day if I need to. “It’s okay, Levi.” I glance over my shoulder, give Tymber a synthetic smile, then return my gaze to Levi. “Tymber is here.”

Levi eases his eyes open and meets my gaze. “Tymber?”

I nod. “Yes.”

Levi glances past me and squints. He cranes his head and inches closer once more. “Tymber?” he repeats.

Behind me, Tymber slowly lowers to the floor and makes himself as small and passive as possible. “Hey, Levi.” He inhales a deep, shaky breath. “So good to see you, man.”

The muscles in my arm burn as it remains lifted between me and Levi. I refuse to lower it. Doing so may make him think I no longer want him or to help him.

Hour-long minutes tick by as he inches across the floor and erases the distance between us. Unwavering, I hold his gaze. My heart thunders in my chest as anxiety flips my stomach upside down. Through every apprehensive second, I maintain cool, collected body language.

“You’re taking me home?” Levi asks, needing our assurance.

A rogue tear rolls down my cheek as a corner of my mouth quirks up in a half smile. “Yes, Levi.” I nod. “We’re taking you home.”

His eyes drop to my hand for a beat. He raises his arm, meets my gaze once more, then takes my hand. He curls his cold, thin fingers around my palm and gives it a light squeeze.

My pulse stutters as I inhale a shaky breath.

I found him.

I have him.

I’m bringing him home.

At an unhurried pace, Tymber leads us down the hallway toward the only known way in or out. He walks several paces in front of us, ready to take anyone out with his fists or the baton and Taser on his belt.

As we near the elevator, I caress Levi’s hand with slow, steady strokes of my thumb. We pause at the door and I turn to face him.

“We’re below ground,” I say, then pause, waiting for my statement to register. When a hint of recognition gleams in his eyes, I continue. “We need to take this elevator up to leave. Okay?”

His eyes dart to the door. A light tremor ripples through him and turns into a noticeable shudder within seconds.

“Tymber and I will be with you the entire time.” I stroke his knuckles with my thumb. “I promise.”

Lips and chin quivering, his gaze returns to mine. “Okay,” he whispers.

On a nod, Tymber takes a walkie-talkie out of his pocket and turns it on. Pressing the side button, he holds it close to his mouth and says, “Objective three complete. Coming up elevator now, over.”

“Communication received topside, over.”

Tymber presses the call button for the elevator. When the doors open, Levi inhales several ragged breaths as he stares at the claustrophobic space.

I stroke his knuckles over and over. “We’ll be right beside you the entire time.”

His grip on my hand tightens. He clamps down on his lips with his teeth, subtly nods, and takes a tentative step toward the elevator. Seconds turn into minutes, but neither of us rushes Levi. Once we’re inside, Tymber presses the button and we ascend to the surface.

As the door opens, Tymber moves in front of us. To not overwhelm Levi further, he creates a temporary barrier until Levi appears comfortable enough to be at the forefront of attention.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop Levi’s parents from rushing us.

“Levi,” Mrs. West says, voice shaky. “My sweet boy.” She crowds him and reaches for his face.

He rips his hand from mine and stumbles backward, his eyes wide.

“Felicity.” Tymber steps between her and Levi and sticks out his arm. “Let him come to you.”

She lifts a hand, covers her mouth, and nods. “You’re right.” Her glassy eyes lock onto Levi. “I’m sorry, Levi. It’s just”—she sniffles—“I’m so happy to see you.”

Levi comes back to my side, but he doesn’t take my hand. My fingers twitch at my side, eager for his touch again. As much as I want to initiate holding his hand, I keep mine pinned to my side and let him decide.

No matter what, he needs to be in control. He must decide what happens next.

“Mom?”

Mrs. West’s lips curve up into a shaky smile as tears stream down her cheeks. “Yes, it’s Mom.”

A complete surprise to everyone, Levi steps away from me and all but runs into his mother’s arms. He circles his arms around her middle, tucks his head in the crook of her neck, and sobs as she strokes his hair.

Bitter jealousy sinks its claws into my heart. I stop breathing as I stare at them. My hands shake at my sides. The world wobbles beneath my feet. Imperceptibly, I shake my head over and over. My vision turns hazy as I teeter in place.

Minutes pass by in sobs and loud whooshes.

No one pays me any attention. Not that they should right now.

An unfamiliar cloud of melancholy blankets my soul as a foreign pang expands in my chest.

More people crowd the area as groups of others are brought up from below.

A man croaks out, “Sydney,” as a frail young woman passes me toward him and his wife. She looks bewildered. Lost. When he repeats her name, she furrows her brow. Like Levi, she probably hasn’t heard her name in months.

I wonder what number was on her door.

After one last glance at Levi as he embraces his mom with unimaginable strength, I avert my gaze, put one foot in front of the other, and head for the boat. On the fifth step, my name echoes through the air.

I pause, close my eyes, inhale deeply, and count to five. Opening my eyes, I school my expression, turn around, and face Levi.

“Yeah?” I feel as empty as the single-word question, but I do my best to not let it show.

Levi releases his mom and moves to stand within arm’s reach. “Thank you.”

His gratitude is a jagged knife to the heart.

All I want is to hold him, console him, tell him I love him.

But I’ve been instructed to reserve my emotions. To let him make the first move.

I understand why. Doesn’t mean I have to agree with or like the reason.

Tears rim my eyes as I stare into his somber blues and nod. “You’re welcome.” My voice cracks on the last syllable.

His brow furrows as he crosses his arms and hugs himself.

When I pictured our reunion, it was unclear. Regardless, I never imagined I’d feel so… dejected. I never envisioned him embracing his parents and not me. It’s a selfish conclusion but one based on our history.

Now that Levi is safe, he needs to heal. And maybe the initial stages of healing don’t include me in his life. As much as that hurts, I need to set aside my own desires and let Levi recover in his own ways and time.

My lips curve into a lifeless smile as I lift a hand, wave, then turn on my heel. “See ya.” The impersonal farewell shreds my heart and rips apart my soul.

I feel his eyes on me until I disappear from view, keeping my gaze forward. I disregard his obvious confusion and choose not to respond to it.

One heavy foot in front of the other, I leave him with his parents and let him decide his future.

Below deck on the boat, I find a vacant corner and press my back to the wall. Sliding down until my ass hits the floor, I draw my legs up and hug them, drop my chin to my chest, and let my tears flow freely.

Time passes in endless footfalls and whispered words.

Law enforcement remains on the island to make arrests and free hundreds of missing people.

Those of us who came for Levi are on a separate boat and preparing to leave this hellscape.

Relief washes over me that we found them. But I’m far from happy.

As the boat picks up speed, Tymber rests a hand on my back. “Give him time, Ollie. He’ll come back to you.”

I pray he’s right.

September 4th

We found him and brought him home. He’s safe now. But he’s not with me. I know it’s shitty of me to be selfish right now, to want him in my arms, my space, at my side, but I can’t fucking help it. I missed him so fucking much. I felt incomplete without him. Cold. Faulty. Lifeless.

He chose to embrace his parents. I hate that he picked them over me, but I also understand. They’re his family. I’m just me. Either way, my heart fucking hurts.

I’ll never forget the fear on his face when I entered that tiny-ass room and got close to him. The way he shot back in terror. It was in complete opposition to his reaction at seeing his mom. He bolted to her and hugged her with a bruising embrace. He hugged his mom as if she was all he needed.

I was lucky I got to hold his hand.

I realize I’m a fucking asshole for feeling jealous. It’s ludicrous of me to want him all to myself after he’s experienced the worst trauma of his life. I was delusional to think he’d come back to my apartment and life would slowly drift back to normal.

Doesn’t mean it isn’t what I wanted. For sixty days, all I’ve wanted is him by my side again. Safe. If I’m lucky, after a while, maybe those wishes will come true. I need them to come true.

Come back to me, L.

I love you.

I need you.

I don’t want a life without you.